


this is the first day of my life

by dekusicepack



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Multi, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, it gets worse later on, srsly watch out for the transphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 11:31:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3568067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dekusicepack/pseuds/dekusicepack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(think I was blind before I met you)</p>
<p>Ray is absolutely sick of this shit.</p>
<p>Ryan just wants to talk to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. nails on a chalkboard

**Author's Note:**

> hey im not dead from the RT/AH fandom
> 
> **this is not represenative of the actual RT/AH crew! haha if you're an RT member just close this right now buddy**
> 
> i really wanted to write trans!ray and then ryan just wiggled his way in  
> this is kinda a work in progress? I just wanted to get some of it on ao3
> 
> title inspired by Bright Eyes' First Day Of My Life

Ray was absolutely sick of this shit.

 

“Marina!”

The yell would bounce up the stairs to his room every morning, shrill and high. Sure, Ray hated a lot of things- 360-no-scopers, hard achievements, cake- but that screech would rake down his spine and it was the fucking worst.

    “I’m up, I’m up!” He’d yell back, wincing at the high tones his voice hit.

    The day could go only downhill from there. Usually, it started with an uncomfortable visit to the mirror in his bathroom. Seriously, he’d think, the guy who invented mirrors needs a solid ass-pummeling.

    Ray glowered at the mirror, body reflecting back in soft contours and long curls. He ran his hands down his sides, cringing at the swoop of his chest and the little ridges of his ribs. Every bump, sweep and curve was a reminder of the shitty girly body he was stuck in. Ray pulled his head up, meeting his reflection and not liking what he saw. Brown eyes, button nose, long lashes, what seemed to him to be the poster child of femininity.

    Ray took a deep breath, and pulled his hair back to the nape of his neck. He looped back loose strands, pinning everything under itself and effectively shortening his hair. Grabbing a dark beanie, he tucked the mass of hair at his neck inside it and pulled it to the crown of his head. A few swipes of carefully placed powder and eyebrow pencil later, he looked into the mirror to find- well, himself.

    Ray Narvaez Jr. Not Marina.

He ambled into his room, collecting his favorite hoodie and a well-worn pair of jeans. He ducked under his bed, retrieving the binder he had hidden from his mother’s prying yesterday night. Wriggling into it, he smoothed his hands down his chest and checked all the fasteners. Running around in Austin’s crippling heat was hard enough without his binder popping open midday. Ray exhaled with satisfaction that his body felt more like, well, his.

    Throwing on a t-shirt and his other clothes was like throwing on a different life, one where he was actually happy with his body and wasn’t a wreck of a closeted queer guy. Ray attempted to make his room look presentable, gave up swiftly, shouldered his bag and headed downstairs.

    “Marina! You’ll be late again, silly girl-“ His mother, Cerilla Narvaez (Ray had taken on his long-gone father’s name, but he had been originally named after his grandmother, Marina Senior-did that even work for girls? Ray kept the Junior in his name out of habit more then anything) berated him the second he walked into the kitchen. The familiar bitterness was strong in his mouth, the taste he got almost constantly at home.

    “Yeah, Mom- I’ll get going now, I understand-“ He made it for the door, eyes glued to the carpet and shoulders slumped.

    “¡No tan rapido, senorita!” Cerilla snapped, sidestepping Ray. “Who are you going with? And why is your hair up again, you look so pretty with it down, ¡mi estrella!” His mom shifted to pull out all his careful pinning, and Ray ducked underneath her arm and slid along the wall towards the door.

    “Michael’s going to be here in just a minute, he’s picking me up-“ The screech of a car horn came from outside, and Ray shot out the door.        “He’shereI’llseeyouafterschoolbye!”

    “Dios, MARINA!”

Ray sprinted to Michael’s car, ripping open a door and throwing himself in. He collapsed onto the passenger’s seat, chest heaving. The person he had collapsed on was not very shocked about this, seeing as it was a near-daily experience.

    “Hi, Ray!” Gavin craned his neck down, bright eyes meeting Ray’s. There was something about the Brit’s blinding enthusiasm that made Ray be real with him, and a day couldn’t be that bad with Gavin Free nearby. Ray puffed out a breath and heaved himself into the backseat, nearly kicking Michael in the head.

    “Hi, Gav.” The backpack got thrown on the floor, his shoes kicked off, and legs pretzeled on the seat. Much better. Ray sighed and sunk into the warm leather, gaze fixed out the window at his receding house.

    “So, any reason you’re crowdsurfing the carpool, or are you running from your mom again?” Ray could almost hear the raised eyebrow when Michael spoke. They’d had this conversation hundreds of times, and it always went the same way.

    “It’s not like I can just say, ‘Hey Mom! Let me just crush you religiously and get myself disowned and probably killed by the Hispanic Mafia, or some shit-“ A lock of hair fell from the side of his hat, and he pinned it back up almost automatically.

    “There’s a Hispanic Mafia?” Gavin interjected, eyes wide. Michael rolled his eyes, groaning at Gavin’s question.

    “Why the hell do I drive you two anywhere?” Michael shook his head. “Stop distractin’ me Gavin, my god- Ray. Your mom isn’t a fucking crook; she can’t just kick you out. The only one you’re hurting with all the closet bullshit is yourself, man. You’re a guy; we know you’re a guy, who gives a flying fuck if you were born with the wrong crap down there? Because the people who give a shit about you sure don’t. Who gives a fuck about anyone who gives you shit?” Michael finished, eyes still fixed on the road.

    Gavin made a little peep in agreement, turning towards Ray with a cheerful expression. “You’re the man, Ray! Anyone who says otherwise is off their boff.”

    “But, Dan’s the man, I can’t be the man!” Ray joked weakly. Whenever he argued against coming out to his mother, Michael ranted and Gavin- well, Gavin was Gavin. The small clump of friends he had picked up in the last few years had been nothing but loving and supportive, to the extent where one of them was almost suspended for knocking out a guy who called Ray slurs on the daily.

    Ray sighed, tucking his face into his cupped hands. Even the thought of Ryan Haywood made Ray feel like a puddle of marshmallow goop. The sandy-haired theatre nerd had slammed into him by accident at lunch two years ago, and now had solidly lodged himself in his heart.

    ‘Kind of like a tumor,’ Ray thought, head completely in the clouds.

    “-so we’re picking up Lindsay next, and then we’ll hopefully fucking crash and never make it to the sack of shit called Lake Travis High School.” Michael’s biting comment cleared Ray’s head, and he pulled himself out of his thoughts. He really needed to give up on this whole Ryan thing; he WAS bi, but definitely not into trans guys. Seemed like nobody was.

    The car stopped and the door opened next to Ray, and his vision was abruptly blocked by a squealing mass of auburn hair.

    “WEWONAGAINSTSTUPIDSHITTYWESTLAKEHOLYSHIT-“ Ray gently shoved Lindsay back into her seat, hands flying up to the back of his hat to check the firmly-secured bun.

    “Try that again, but in English this time Linds,” Michael snarked, Lindsay popping up next to his seat and prodding his face.

    “We absolutely obliterated West Lake this weekend, my god Michael! You should have been there, Barb almost punched this guy in the face-“ She punctuated each word with a poke, Michael swatting at her hand.

    “I am not starting this fucking car again until you cut that shit out, oh my GOD-“ Ray sunk back into his chair, thoughts drifting again. Coming out to his mom, or the rest of his crazy Catholic family, just wasn’t an option. He couldn’t watch the warmth in his mother’s eyes turn to sorrow, couldn’t watch her heart break as her daughter- son, Ray thought, her son- told their secret.

    He couldn’t do it.


	2. this is gonna be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Whoops, my mind decided Ryan's eyes were hazel. If any other details seem a bit dated RT-wise or just generally incorrect, point it out please! I've been at a really crazy boarding school since last August, and I was in a wilderness exploration program before that, so I've been a bit out of the loop. Speaking of which, I'll take the time to tell you guys I'll probably be updating once a week, most likely on Thursdays.   
> REUPLOAD: Whoops, fragmented the chapter.
> 
> Barbara/Lindsay is a very important ship to my heart, guys.
> 
> [roman and mercury made the most sense for bully names? shoutout to RWBY which is important to my heart as well]
> 
> the Raywood actually starts in this chapter guys I swear
> 
> after this, I'll prob be uploading once a week!

The school day at Lake Travis could also start two different ways. The day would go fantastic; he’d not pass out from heat exhaustion- seriously, why the shit was Austin so hot? Ray would always think. We’re on the damn coast, aren’t we? - and he wouldn’t get the shit beat out of him and need his friends to save his sorry ass.

            Or it could go the usual way, and be absolute crap.

            Ray threw his backpack onto a table in Mr.Hullum’s Chemistry II class and threw himself into a chair as well, noting the ominous creak of the legs. The snickers from behind him didn’t bear well either, seeing as they came from the people he least wanted to be sitting behind him, especially when none of his friends were in this class. He slid his phone out of his bag, quietly sending a text out.

            Minutes later, Gavin wheedled his way into the classroom through his weird noises and a likely-fake teacher’s note, and strutted down towards the printer. As per usual, he was seemingly oblivious to everything happening around him- even with Ray.

            Ray had been dealing with Marcus [better known as Mercury] and Roman Torchwick’s bullshit for the year he had been out in his school. Ray’s chair squealed as Mercury pulled it back, snickers in his ears.

            “Dammit, Mercury-“ The chair tipped, and he nearly avoided smacking his head on the ground by throwing out his elbows.

            “What’re you guys doing back there?” Mr. Hullum turned from the board, concern plastered across his face. Ray started to explain, but Roman cut him off.

            “Just messing around, Mr. Hullum! It won’t happen again, sorry!” The ginger was the picture of innocence, grey eyes wide with bangs swept over one side of his face. Ray would have considered him cute, if he wasn’t the biggest asshole in the world.

            “Cutting it close, Brownie,” Roman purred, his foot nudging at the back of Ray’s head. He’d messed with Ray ever since he came out, possibly because he didn’t want to get picked on, probably because it was easy entertainment.

            Ray grumbled and picked himself up, ghosting his hand over the back of his head. He let out a breath upon finding his bun intact and hat still pinned on.

            Mr. Hullum raised an eyebrow, looking at Ray’s pissed-off expression and Mercury snickering. “Seems more like pulling pigtails to me.” He shrugged and went back to writing on the board, explaining some theory.

            Roman dropped the cutesy act and went back to dicking around with Mercury, kicking at Ray’s chair. His dicking around was interrupted by the mild issue of his own chair being gone.

            Gavin hooked Roman and Mercury’s chairs with his foot and pulled them over, walking past like nothing had happened. The two collapsed onto the ground in confusion, looking around for who had given them a taste of their own medicine.

            “What the hell?” “Who did that, literally what-“ The sound of Roman’s Chemistry II textbook hitting Mercury’s head, and the holler of pain that came after was music to Ray’s ears, and he mouthed “Thank you!” to Gavin as he passed. Gavin winked, and went on his merry way looking the epitome of joy.

Ray was pretty sure this was one of the best days of his life.

\- -

Ray walked out of Chemistry II with a satisfied grin and a bounce in his step. Each little victory against Roman and his gang made his heart lighter, his talk happier.

Ok, and maybe seeing Ryan next period had something to do with it.

Ray swore to anyone who asked that he took British Prose and Plays because he loved writing; Definitely not because watching Ryan act made his face turn red like roses. The blonde threw himself wholeheartedly into his characters, to the extent where he would slip into Old English at lunch after practicals.

Ray ambled his way through the school, eventually walking into the auditorium. The gang was in full swing, Griffon painting backdrops on the stage wall, JJ messing around in the sound booth, and Lindsay and Barbara probably making out in a corner somewhere like usual. Ray swung his bag onto a seat and vaulted himself onto the stage, landing next to his teacher Mr. Oum.

Monty Oum had been teaching both theatre and communications for the last five years at Lake Travis High, and Ray was still confused how he managed to do so many classes and still remember every single student’s name. Hell, Ray had a hard enough time remembering the names of everyone in his grade, and he’d known them for most of his life. Mr. Oum turned to Ray with eyes still closed, which was definitely the creepiest thing Ray’d seen all day.

“You’re late, Mr. Narvaez.” Mr. Oum raised an eyebrow, which Ray decided was even creepier. When Ray had nervously come out to the eclectic teacher, he’d switched pronouns and names like he’d never been saying she in the first place. That action had quickly earned him a spot as Ray’s favorite teacher- which was impressive, considering that he absolutely despised school.

“Sorry, Mr. Oum, had a hot date with every single hallway in the school except for this one,” Ray snarked, pulling his hoodie over his head and throwing it at his chair. It hit the ground ten feet away, as per usual.

“And that vault was shoddy, you need to move your balance forward before you jump, not after,” Mr. Oum commented.

“How the hell did you even see that, your eyes were CLOSED-“

Ray cut off his potentially embarrassing tirade when his eyes caught a flash of blonde in the doorway.

Ryan sprinted into the room, shedding backpack and leather jacket as he went. “Sorry, Mr. Oum! Kerry dropped all his books and I was helping him and then Miles tripped-“ Mr. Oum raised a finger, and Ryan stopped in his tracks.

“You’re fine.” Ryan visibly exhaled, pushing his hair out of his face and gathering his things onto a chair. He swung himself onto the stage, rolling and popping up in front of Ray with a dramatic flourish.

“Your day just got twice as amazing.”

Ryan bumped his shoulder to Ray’s like an over-friendly cat.

“Don’t you think twice is a little low? Underestimating yourself a bit there, Ry?” Ray threw out a comeback casually, bumping Ryan back.

Ryan just grinned, his smile like Austin sunshine. “Just trying to explain it in layman’s terms, so you don’t have to pull out a graphing calculator and the newest edition of the Shakespearean Dictionary again.”

Ray shuddered, causing Ryan to snicker and nudge him again. “Combining Calculus and A Midsummer Night’s Dream was just screwed up, dude. You’re screwed up.”

“I’ll screw YOU up.” Ryan shot back. “Wait, shit. Shit, that was wrong.” Ray snorted at the blonde’s rosy face and knit eyebrows.

“Don’t give me any false signs, Haywood. First you’ll be making puns, and next thing you know we’ll have three grandkids and be listed on the Census together.”

“Hey, I hear the tax returns are great,” Ryan smirked, stretching out his arms next to Ray. Ray took the comfortable silence as a chance to study his drama partner.

Ryan looked similar to Gavin in some ways, with a lot less nose and a lot more muscle. While Gavin was a bouncy ball on adrenalin, Ryan was like a lanky cat stretched out in a sunbeam. Sandy blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a nearly-infectious smile- a regular teenage dream, Ray thought. You could write shitty romance novels about this guy and they’d sell for millions. Ray would probably buy fifty.

“Alright!” Mr. Oum stepped to the back of the stage, the script for Hamlet in his hands.

“Ryan and Ray, places! Barbara and Lindsay, please stop trying to get to second base in my classroom!” Barbara shot up from the second row, lip gloss on her face and half of her hair mussed.

“Whuh?”

Mr. Oum sighed, flipping through his script. “Just start your lines. This class is such a trainwreck.”

Ryan snorted, eyes glinting with laughter.

“Always has been, always will.” Ray looked over to Ryan, pulling a piece of hair back into his hat and stifling a laugh of his own.

Maybe, just maybe, today was going to be alright.


	3. but deep down all you want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (is love)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyyyy its update thursday
> 
> i've planned everything out to the end, i'm probably going to wrap up at 8-10 chapters!!
> 
> also!! i wont be updating next thursday, I'll be on a vacation!

Theatre class was Ray’s little haven inside hell, and Ryan just made it even better.  
Ray jogged over to his spot on the stage, standing next to Griffon. The blonde girl stood with a prop torch in one hand and a well-thumbed script in the other.  
“Ready?” she asked, handing Ray the script.  
“Depends on your definition of ready, really.” He glanced across the stage to see if Ryan was ready. Which of course, he was. Ryan was sitting on an upturned bucket, going over his lines with graceful sweeps of his hands and tilts of the head. He’d been a theatre junkie since he was little, growing up with a playwright for a dad and a singer for a mother. Acting came as naturally to Ryan Haywood as water pouring down a Cliffside, and it certainly showed. “Start at Act Two, Scene One, and the ninth line. Ray?” Mr. Oum gestured towards center stage Ray stepped forward, script in shaking hands. The act of just talking in front of people was bad enough, talking in Shakespearean didn’t help his stutter.  
“And yet, I would not sleep; merciful powers, restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature gives way to in repose!” His voice wobbled at first; it then steadied out as Ryan flashed an encouraging smile his way.  
Ryan strode onto the stage, JJ holding another one of Griffon’s prop torches and following behind him  
“Give me my sword,” Ray asked Griffon, trying to inject panic into his voice. “Who’s there?” He gripped the handle of the sword, knuckles white as he held it at his side.  
“A friend.” Ryan’s deep voice rang out across the stage, and he stood in front of Ray with his hands clasped behind his back and a barely-there smile on his face. He had the charm, and seriousness, to portray Macbeth perfectly.  
“What, sir, not yet at rest?” Ray took on a sing-song quality in his voice. “The king’s a-bed; He hath been in unusual pleasure, and sent forth great largess to your offices.” He assumed this was meant to be mocking, as he had never actually read Macbeth. Dyslexia and Old English don’t really get along, and Ray didn’t want to drop twenty bucks on a translation when he could just mooch off of Lindsay’s copy every now and then. “This diamond he greets your wife withal, by the name of the most kind hostess; and shut up in measureless content.”  
Ryan narrowed his eyes, and if this wasn’t a theatre class Ray would turn heel and sprint the second he saw that look. “Being unprepared, our will became the servant to defect; which else should free have wrought.”  
Ray spread his hands in front of him a gesture of reassurance. “All’s well. I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters; to you they have shown some truth.”  
The blonde shook his head. “I think not of them; yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve, we could spend it in some words upon that business.” He raised an eyebrow, and the smile slid into a smirk. “If you would grant the time.” Ryan’s tone was sultry, and Ray could feel his cheeks flush. While he hadn’t fully read Macbeth, he was pretty sure Macbeth never flirted with Banquo. Eh, fuck it, he thought. Shakespeare needed a little more flirting anyways.  
“At your kindest leisure.” Ray responded in kind, looking up from his script to meet Ryan’s gaze. Light from the windows made his eyes glint cobalt; he shifted towards Ray and placed a hand on his arm.  
“There!” Mr. Oum clapped his free hand against his script, and Ray jumped back, face going from pink to bright red.  
Ryan chuckled, sending a jolt up Ray’s arm. Mr. Oum preferred they hold their finishing pose while he gave his feedback, and it seemed almost like a freeze frame. He stepped in front of them, red marker in hand.  
“Now, what did they do right and what did they do wrong?” Lindsay raised her hand.  
“Miss Tuggey?”  
“I’m just wondering what act Banquo and Macbeth hook up, because I clearly missed that?” Her smile was bright and voice dripping with snark. Barbara giggled next to her. “Banquo, more like Bangquo.”  
Mr. Oum sighed, while Ray turned an almost neon shade of red and Ryan just chuckled again. “The purpose of this class is to analyze each other’s portrayals of British literature, not set your friends up, Misses Tuggey and Dunkelman. I believe I’ve told you this multiple times. Now, any serious feedback?”  
Griffon raised her tattoo-dabbled hand. “Ray’s voice was unsteady at first, but he managed it later. As usual, Ryan was absolutely perfect because he’s possessed by the spirit of Apollo, or something ridiculous like that. Though, Lindsay does have a point. Ryan was pretty flirty,” she commented, hand on her chin. “It was kind of cute, though.”  
Mr. Oum nodded, clearly relieved at the somewhat-serious feedback. “A talented actor can change the most serious of scenes into something ripped from a romance movie, which I asked Ryan to demonstrate for us today. Our theme for the week is deception and perfection, everybody!” Ray deflated upon hearing Mr. Oum requested for Ryan to act the way he did. Of course it wasn’t real, what was he thinking?  
“Well,” Mr. Oum added, head tilted. “More accurately, Ryan asked me if he could demonstrate.”  
Oh.  
Oh?  
This was thoroughly confusing for Ray; he knit his eyebrows and stared at Ryan, mouthing out his question as to why Ryan chose to flirt him up. Sure, the blonde was usually joking around about that kind of stuff anyways, but after more then a few awkward moments he kept it down. So what was the deal now?  
“Wanted to see if you’d blush,” he whispered back, smirk on his face.  
That smug bastard.  
Ray tried to will his face into a more natural shade, from its neon red.  
“I know I’m gorgeous, but seriously Ryan. Stop staring.” He let out an awkward laugh. How were you supposed to respond anyways?, Ray thought. Make out with him? Punch him? …Both?  
Mr. Oum dismissed them to their seats, and Ray curled up in his chair next to Ryan. He started talking about the theme, and as usual Ray tuned him out after the first five minutes.  
“You did pretty good up there, even with the inflection change,” Ryan grinned, head turned towards Ray. Holy shit, their faces were close, Ray noticed.  
“I wasn’t expecting you to pull out the moves on me, so y’know.” Ray shrugged, trying to look confident. “I do my best.” Ryan snorted, while Ray put on the airs of a snotty actor. “I’ll be going for my fifteenth Tony soon, no big.”  
“Yeah, and I’ll be your lovely date to the afterparty.” Ryan fluttered his lashes, pulling his jacket collar up to his face like a feather boa.  
What does he say to that? Ray let out a way-too-intense laugh instead. Shit, was that too much?, Ray worried. He probably thought that was too much-  
“Unless you’d prefer Downtown Park, that is. It’s going to be pretty nice on Saturday, so that’d be nice if you want to go.” Ryan commented, expression thoughtful.  
Wait, what? Did he just ask Ray out? _Did Ryan Haywood just ask him on a date?_  
Ray’s first thought was to react as coolly as possible. Of course, Ray being Ray, he completely fucked that up and burst out in the most awkward laughter ever. He trailed off when Ryan looked over, confused.  
“Yeah!” The squeak in his voice made him want to find Mother Nature, and rip her a new one. He coughed and tried again. “I mean, yeah, that sounds great.”  
“Great.” Ryan beamed, and looked like he was about to say more when the bell rang behind their heads.  
“Class dismissed!” Mr. Oum called out.  
Ray was halfway out the door, legs working overtime from anxiety, when Ryan caught up.  
“See you on Saturday, Ray.” Ray was pretty sure he was about to pass out.  
“Yeah, see you!” Ray was definitely about to pass out.  
Ryan shot him one last smile and hurried off to his class across campus, leather jacket billowing out behind him. The crowd of student filtered around Ray as he stood and watched him go. It seemed almost theatrical to Ray, something out of a movie. He sighed, a little contented noise that went through his chest and made it warm.  
Everything was going great until he remembered about his mom. And the fact she was strictly against Ray dating, and would be even more enraged about Ryan’s not-so-straightness.  
So basically, he was stuck with the shittiest decision of his life: Fess up, or wuss out.  
Which, you know, was exactly his usual luck.


	4. the lights in the sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had to google the spelling of frappachino  
> still pretty sure I spelt it wrong
> 
> here it is guys the date. r&r connection finally happens
> 
> this is super late because I had ABSOLUTELY NO TIME around midterms im sorry  
> also my love of rayvin showed a little im sorry for interruptin the raywood haha  
> im debating starting a Michael/Geoff fic because I DO NOT have enough Michael/Geoff in my life

Ray slammed the door to his room and slid down the back, chest heaving.

    Well, shit. That literally could not have been any worse. He’d come home, stomach turning at the thought of asking his mom if he could go out tomorrow, and her inevitable question of why. It had gone to shit, exactly as he predicted. She had turned redder and redder as Ray went on, and had sat in fuming silence when he finished. After that, she proceeded to flip her absolute fuck. Screaming, slamming the table, everything. Ray’d run out of the room minutes later, anxiety bubbling up in his chest.

    And here he was now, hyperventilating in his room while his mother carried on downstairs.

Breath whooshed in and out of him, his heartbeat skittering and racing with fear. His hands shook as he fumbled around in his pockets for his phone, tapping out Gavin’s number and hitting speaker, then dropping the phone as it rang.

    The Brit picked up after an agonizingly long minute. “Ray?” His mumble was drowsy, evidence he’d just woken up.

    Ray choked out a greeting, voice cracking into an jittery laugh. “Hi.”

    Gavin’s voice slid into worry at the speed of fast. “Ray, are you ok? Did you talk to your mom about-“ Ray’s sobs swiftly degraded into bawling, providing a neat answer. “Oh.” Desperate gulps vibrated the air as Ray struggled to pull himself together. “I’m grabbing my stuff now, make sure you can get out,” Gavin’s unusually serious tone came through the phone along with the rustles of a jacket being thrown on.

    Ray managed to recoup, wiping at his face with his shirt. “Gav, you don’t need to-“

    “You need someone there for you, X-Ray. Don’t even try that with me.”

* * *

 

Gavin showed up around ten minutes later, with a green sweater unevenly buttoned up over crumpled jeans and a t-shirt. His bike hit the curb, and the blonde gracefully flipped into the hydrangeas lining Ray’s street.

Ray was curled up in the corner of his window seat with his legs pulled up against his chest. Eyes on the road, he watched Gavin pop out of the bushes with blue petals in his hair.

“Idiot.” Ray poked his head out the window and called, smile coming back to his face. Gavin looked up and beamed at Ray’s grin, satisfied at having already cheered his friend some.

“Open your window, you nob!” Gavin detangled himself from the overly-affectionate flowers and made his way up the tree next to Ray’s window. The window slid up with some convincing, and Gavin wriggled inside with practiced ease. He took one look at Ray, with his tear-stained face and nails bitten down to the quick, and let out a soft “Ray...” at the sight of his friend so shaken.

Ray looked up at the Brit over his pulled up hoodie, his fingers curling around the sleeve on Gavin’s offered arm.

“C’mere, you.” The two sat side by side, looking out at the quickly-sinking sun. Whenever one of them had any issues, the other was quick to run over and help- day’s ends being the most common. They’d curl up and trade old jokes and talk for hours on end, what Gavin had quipped their ‘X-Ray and Vav Official Pity Parties’. Ray let out a wobbly breath, dropping his head to Gavin’s shoulder.

“What do I even do, Gav?” Ray tilted his head up, gazing at the swathes of gauzy pink and tangerine draped and pinned across the sky. That’s what his life felt like, he decided. A huge ball of flame, spinning out of control.

“Well, you could just sneak out.” Gavin commented. “Like every teen ever, Ray. A little up-and-out the window, bike on over to Downtown Park, and nip back to your house before your mum notices.”

Ray slid his free hand down the back of his neck, letting out a deep breath. “I don’t know, Gav. I’d probably be grounded until I die, or some shit.” He jumped a little as Gavin clasped Ray’s hands between his, bright green eyes meeting brown.

“Being actually happy is worth it, trust me. I had to duck around my parents for so long to even get out, but it was worth the trouble.” Gavin squeezed Ray’s hands and lifted them to his face, squishing Ray’s features into a wide smile and pressing his hands to his cheeks. “Are you happy yet? Now? Now, Ray?”

Ray laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners as his face got smushed around. “Ok, ok! I give up, I’ll sneak out if you stop fucking my face up!” Gavin immediately released his face, clapping his hands together in delight.

“My little X-Ray’s going on a DATE! Oh, this is just top! Wait, wait, what’re you going to wear? Oh gosh-“

Ray snorted, shaking his head at Gavin’s excitement.

“I’ll be over at six.”

* * *

 

Ray stepped out of the bathroom, smoothing his hands over the cobalt hoodie he was wearing over a grey button-up with Gameboy buttons. He walked forward, the cuffs of his jeans brushing his checkered Vans. He’d wheedled his mom into letting him stay the night at Gavin’s house, so he wouldn’t have to deceive her twice and feel guilty about going out with Ryan.

“I don’t know, Gav, this might be a little much-“ Ray said, anxiously tugging down his grey beanie. Gavin interrupted with a high pitched noise, bouncing on his bed.

“No, no, this is AMAZING! Ryan’s gonna swoon, I swear-“

“Gavin, I doubt Ryan will swoon over my cuffed pants. These aren’t even my pants, and they’re way too long!” Ray lifted a foot, turning it and raising an eyebrow at Gavin. “Too long.”

Gavin sighed loudly, flopping back onto his bed and bouncing. “Raaaaaaay.”

“What?” Ray tilted his head, confused.

“RAY!” Gavin yelled to the ceiling, still sprawled across his bed.

“WHAT!” He yelled back, even more baffled.

“Stop arguing with my fashiooooon, Raaaaay,” Gavin dragged out his words, throwing his arm over his chest and rolling around.

“Okay, I’ll wear the damn jeans! Can we go now, jeez-“

* * *

 

Ray stood in front of Ryan’s door, tugging at the bottom of his hoodie. He’d been dicking around about pressing the doorbell for the last few minutes, and was about to press it when the door swung open.

“Hey, sorry I’m a few minutes late, my mom was fussing around-“ Ryan stood in the doorway, face flushed above his tee and leather bomber.

Ray waved him off. “Nah, you’re good.” He looked Ryan up and down, noting the dark jeans and boots with neatly tied laces. “You look good, too.”

Ryan grinned, stepping outside and closing the door behind him. “You look better.” They walked side by side to Ryan’s beat-up car, hands skimming each other.

* * *

 

Ray looked incredulously at the coffee piled high with whipped cream and caramel that Ryan had just handed him, unsure.

“This...This might be the most ridiculous thing I’ve seen, Rye, and I look in the mirror almost daily,” he derided, eyebrow raised at the blonde sitting in the driver’s seat.

Ryan grinned, accepting his coffee from the barista and handing her the payment. He turned towards Ray, sipping his drink and getting whipped cream all over his nose. “You’ve never been to The Red Caboose, clearly. This stuff is amazing.”

Ray shrugged, wrapping his hands around the cup.

“If you say so.”

 

* * *

 

Two chocolate-laced frappachinos later, Ray wasn’t sure if he liked Ryan or the coffee more.

Ryan leaned forward and smeared whipped cream on Ray’s face, laughing when the brunet crinkled his nose and wiped at his face.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve wiped more of that crap on my face then eaten it, god-“ Ray bit the stem off of the cherry from the top of his drink, popping it into his mouth. “I think they’ll be suspicious if we ask for more whipped crème and cherries again, though.”

Opalescent light filtered through the evening clouds, the late afternoon sun striping the two in filmy pinks and reds. Ray and Ryan had been talking and laughing for hours now, sitting on the hood of Ryan’s car parked on an overlook in Downtown Park.

Ray wiped his face off, turning towards a giggling Ryan. “Dude, you’re so getting caramel-bombed.” Ryan clutched at his heart, dramatically gasping.

“You wound me so, my dear!” Ray responded by streaking Ryan’s cheek with caramel, following through with his threat.

“Oh, you are SO dead-“ Ryan lunged towards Ray, cherries in hand.

“Not the face!”

* * *

 

After Ryan had rolled both of them off the car hood and promptly failed at getting any of the cherries onto Ray, they’d sat close together on the grassy overlook and watched the sun set.

Ryan gazed over at Ray, who had his hands out like he was trying to catch the light.

“Here, if you just move your hands a little-“ Ryan slid his hands under Ray’s, tilting them slightly to the left, hearing Ray gasp as the liquid sun seemed to spill into their hands.

A flush spread across Ray’s cheekbones as he noticed the little smile on Ryan’s lips. He gulped, brown eyes flicking to blue.

No words were said, but Ray could understand Ryan just by the look on his face. Ryan leaned forward, tucking a lock of hair into Ray’s hat.

“Can I...” The blonde started, then trailed off, face stained pink. Ray nodded, fingers curling around Ryan’s.

Ryan closed the distance between them, and Ray wouldn’t trade anything in the world for that moment.


End file.
